


Safe and Sound

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, M/M, Pre-Slash, and for suggested panic attacks, warnings for hallucinations/mental illness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-07
Updated: 2012-10-07
Packaged: 2017-11-15 19:13:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/530738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam's lost a lot lately, and he seems to be losing more and more. But then he sees someone good, for once. Someone who he thinks he knows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Safe and Sound

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Brooke/padafuckyou on tumblr for the Great Blind Sassy Exchange II. My prompts/info were: For prompt 1: Sam has fallen into insanity, his mind is breaking, leaking memories into the air around him. Lucifer is constantly breathing down his neck, scraping against the decimated wall in his head. There is one saving grace; an angel he’s forgotten the name of has appeared multiple times in his greatest times of need.  
> Other info that might help: Not into fluff—darker is better.   
> (thank you so much for reading!)

Sam said he was alright, but frost is creeping up the windows. Say what you will about the devil's association with fire and brimstone, but here and now he's sliding his fingers across the motel's hardwood, making ice bloom in white patches. He's shoulder-to-shoulder with Sam, who flinches as ice travels under him where he sits against the wall. Dean's miles away, on a hunt, and Sam said he was alright.

"So, are you going to bury big brother again, or burn him this time to be safe?" Lucifer muses, fingers trailing veins of ice up the walls. "I mean, either way he's going to Hell, but it's the thought that counts." Sam pushes down thoughts of Dean burning, screaming, out of his head. Dean's fine, he thinks. Dean's fine, he'll kill the changeling, and he'll come back, and he'll be fine. Lucifer suddenly looks at him, as if he heard him. "What, you think Dean's still kicking? I'm sorry, Sammy, but he's gone. Frying extra-crispy as we speak."

Sam closes his eyes and digs his nails into his hand. It doesn't stop the constant undercurrent of doubt, the voice beneath it all that whispers it's true, Dean's gone, you're alone. Lucifer sighs happily. "Don't you just love this weather? Almost like the cage. Remember, Sam?" And Sam doesn't want to remember, but he does, and it hurts more than anything he's ever been through. Memories of flames, then the slow burn of ice, of the constant pain.

Sam buries his head in his hands and gets blood on his face from where he's ripped the skin with his nails, but that pain is nothing. There's ice burning his exposed arms and there are flames sizzling and crackling on the floor, and Lucifer is always nearby (he never left, you can't escape him when you are him). The wall in Sam's head is in ruins, and memories from the cage are coming to the surface.

"Sam." The voice sounds familiar, somehow, but he doesn't know the name attached to it. He's forgetting a lot of things lately. Things, people, great big chunks of his life-all burned in the cage with everything else. He raises his head expecting the devil, and gets a pair of blue eyes looking at him with concern. 

Sam blinks and suddenly Lucifer is gone, the ice and flames are gone, and it's just him and the angel staring at him. Sam lets his arms fall to the floor. "I told you, I don't want your help."

There's a flash of what might be disappointment on the face before him. Sam chokes down a breath. His head is still spinning, and he still feels like he's suffocating. "I didn't know it was this bad," the man mutters. So, he's given up trying to convince Sam he can be saved. Good. 

Yesterday the angel appeared in the motel room when Dean was getting takeout, and Sam almost laughed when he realized the man was an angel. Well, he would have, if he wasn't in the middle of a particularly bloody memory from the cage.

That day the angel wouldn't stop saying he knew Sam, and that he was looking for a way to get Sam's wall back up. Sam would have told him to go screw himself, if he wasn't trying vainly to breathe. Just when Sam felt like he was going to break, the angel put him out like a light. "I didn't get to ask you last time-what's your name?"

"Castiel," the angel says, and he sounds like he's swallowing down grief. The name seems familiar to Sam, but he can't remember the memories joined to it. "Well, Castiel, you can't help me, so you can stop stalking me now." Sam tries to make his tone joking, but the words come out heavy with exhaustion. His eyes are half-closed, but he watches the angel warily. 

Castiel's face turns determined. "Sam, I'm looking for a way to help. It's not over." Sam's too tired to argue. He's always tired. "I won't leave you," Castiel says, and there's a spark there, ferocity Sam thinks he might have seen before, the kind that comes with a sharp knife and a body count. Castiel is silent now, and Sam thinks he might have imagined the spark.

"You're safe and sound here, Sammy," Dean had said when they checked in. It wasn't his fault he couldn't see the fire behind him.

Sam falls asleep with the roar of flames in his ears. He's never gotten used to how loud it is.

....

Sam is used to Dean going on hunts without him by now. Dean's never more than a few miles away, but he's always gone too long. For the past couple of days Sam's been functional, even caught a few hours of nightmarish sleep, but today he can feel it's going to get bad again. His mind's revving up, getting ready for a whole new day of horrors.

Sam hopes Dean will kill the vampire soon, because the walls are burning.

"How are you doing?" Sam flinches as Castiel appears with a rush of air in the center of the room. He looks tired and worn, but his tone is warm. "Where were you, Castiel?" Sam asks. He's got to know, where do angels go when they're not hanging with headcases like him? Castiel's face hardens slightly. "Heaven," he says flatly. Oh, Sam remembers that. He might have forgotten a lot of important things, but he remembers Heaven.

"I am needed there. They need my help...so much has been destroyed since Michael was imprisoned," Castiel continues distantly. He turns to Sam, and he doesn't know what to do about the concerned look that's being aimed at him. "You didn't answer my question. How are you?" Sam looks over his shoulder. Lucifer waves. "Never better," he says, moving his arms as the fire spreads. It's in vain, and he clenches his teeth as the pain starts.

"Why can't I remember you, Castiel?" Sam grits out with frustration. He closes his eyes, but it doesn't stop him from crying out as his body burns. "When your wall was...taken down...the memories from the cage overwhelmed your mind. Some memories were pushed back, some completely forgotten. In a while, when you are...used to the new memories, you may remember some of the old ones. Or...you might never remember. There is no way to tell what will happen," Cas says. 

There is something broken in his voice. "But I am trying to find a way to put your wall up again. I won't give up," Castiel says firmly. Sam looks at Castiel, looks through the smoke and embers. They are both tired.

"Thanks, Cas," Sam mumbles. The afterimage of flames is burned into his eyelids, even when he closes them. "For not giving up. Thank you, Cas," he continues, fighting to stay awake for one more second. He lets his head rest against the wall and slips into the next nightmare.

It is quiet now, but Cas won't leave Sam until Dean gets back. Nothing is certain; Cas knows absolutely nothing for sure, and his future could go a million ways, but he does know some things. He knows he will stay here. He knows he won't give up on Sam.


End file.
